


No Questions Asked

by waitfor_it



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Drinking, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Road Trips, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, but not really, but not really accidental, drunk sex in later chapters, they're all douchebags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitfor_it/pseuds/waitfor_it
Summary: Thomas needed some help bringing three preschool-aged children across the country, and Alex could never handle his feelings in a healthy way.Alternatively, Aaron was straightedge and packed in a car with four stoners.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> to start, I'd like to thank my best friend Emmy and my boyfriend Spencer for being my motivation and helping me along the way. without you guys I probably wouldn't keep writing this and would have abandoned it after a few thousand words.
> 
> I really hope you guys like this, because it's the stupidest thing I've ever written but damn, I'm having a lot of fun.

Hair knotted and greasy was a sight to behold, his friends consider him to be some kind of cryptid, “kinda like mothman, with the same animosity and chaotic energy, but much less likely to cause any damage”.

  


Thomas named their group-chat promptly after: “Kinda Like Mothman”

  


Alex had the kitchen table piled with papers that was full front and back scribbled with notes for his next article, each one he cranked out daily had the same premise: “ _What did [ x ] political figure do now?_ _Will the answer_ really _shock you?_ ” or “ _Nothing can be done to prevent this, says only nation where this regularly happens._ ” 5’4 and full of spite, he did his job well, maybe too well.

  


He considered climbing back into bed. Instead he groaned, dropping his head onto the table with a muffled, “Alexa, call Jack.”.

  


Silence. He lifted his head. “Alexa, call Jack.” 

  


“Okay.”

  


The ringing of the echo filled the air; he scrubbed his eyes.

  


“Alex?”

  


“Come over,” he said.

  


“Now?.”

  


“Yeah.” Alex heard John shift. “Did you just wake up?”

  


“Mhmm.”

  


“I have coffee brewing, enough for you, me, and Laf. It’ll be ready in five minutes.”

  


“I will not be there in five minutes.” He groaned, shocked that he would even imply it.

  


“Ten, then. Alexa, end call.”

  


Alex let out an exasperated sigh and opened his laptop. The scent of coffee filled the air, along with the lingering vapor smelling of  _ outdoors and smores  _ e-liquid. 

  


Getting started always seemed to be the problem. He had no issue finishing. In fact, he had a tendency to hyperfocus, so once he got in the zone, he was gone. Taking another hit of the mod resting beside the phone and computer set on the table, he enjoyed the controlled chaos before him. He holds, shifting in the chair before exhaling the remnants of vapor. Alex stares at the empty document before him, eyes flicking between the screen and the notes he took.. His team expected something big for this, but all he had was the paper scribbled on by his laptop. “I should have gone into work today"

  


With the vibration of his phone on the table, he picked it up and saw a message from Lafayette with just, “ _ ;) _ ”. He assumed that meant that he was about to leave the house. 

  


“ _ coffees getting cold - better hurry, binch. _ ”

  


“ _r00d;((_ “ he shot back quickly, Alex smiled. He set his phone down on the table and sat in silence, and there wasn’t much but silence followed by the sound of a burning coil until John opened the door, followed by a distant, “Attends, Jack!” 

  


John smiled at his friend from the door. “We got breakfast.”

  
“So that’s why you’re late.”

  


John pursed his lips, arms crossed.”Well,  _ sorry _ .” Again, distantly all that was heard was the call of his name. He turned out the door, yelling back to the car, “Me voilà! Calme-toi!”

  


Alex smiled, trailing behind as John made his way to the car and leaning against the doorway. “Your french is getting better,”

  


Lafayette pulled out a bag and slammed the door with his foot, flipping his hair to the side. “Bonjour!” 

  


“G’morning,” he retaliated, grinning at John as he shut the passenger door with his elbow. “Need any help?” John smiled back, albeit less enthusiastic than Alex, more shy than anything.  

  


“S’okay,” he said, heading up the pavement and thrusting the bag into Alex’s arms. “We got Mcdonald’s.” He mumbled. Alex nodded, hands gripping the bag tightly as John brushed his hair out of his face. “You been smoking?” He huffed.

  


“Just the vape, nothing else.” He shrugged, footsteps heavy as he made his way back inside. “Why? Do I smell it?”

  


“No, you seem high.”

  


“60 milligrams nicotine.”

  


“Oh, that’s new” he turned his head to Lafayette, lowering his eyes and shifting on his feet.. “What are you waiting on?”

  


“Sorry, sorry!” he called, sifting through the bag. “I think they left out a large fry.”

  


John rolled his eyes and pushed his way through the foyer. “Where’s your dad?” He picked up Alex’s vape off the table and took a long draw. “No, no. This isn’t cotton candy.”

  


“He’s at work.” That statement made a grin flash across the southerner’s face. “George asked me to stop smoking weed in the kitchen.” He shut down the idea before a word could sneak past John’s lips. He frowned.

  


“Upstairs, then.” He runs back outside, past Lafayette, who carrying a bag full of Mcdonald’s french fries. 

  


“George not here?” Lafayette asked, smiling out at the youngest of the three as he grabs his bag from the trunk of the car. “Il a apporté de l’herbe. Dit son haut de gamme.”

  


“Non, mais je peux imaginer.” He shook his head, leaning against the counter. “Care to tell me why you brought two bags of Mcdonald’s?”

  


John slammed the door and opened his mouth in protest. “ _ Alex _ , we always have a mukbang when we smoke.”

  


Alex sighed, exhausted. “It’s not a mukbang unless we film it, we’ve been over this.” He corrected, sliding his notes and computer into the messenger bag on the floor. “I can’t have a lot,”

  


“Fine.”

  


John dragged Alex and Lafayette up the stairs, already loading the bowl. “Y’all,” He sat on the bed, Lafayette sitting against the bed and Alex sitting against the door. They locked eyes.

  


“How much do you think he’s gonna give us?” Lafayette raised an eyebrow and smiled sarcastically.

  


“Maybe a half gram or so, how much do you have?” Alex shot a look at John, who was already lighting the bowl and taking a draw.

  


“I’ve got a half! Y’all can have a gram each, otherwise y’all are paying me for it.” He answered without hesitation, smoke trailing out of his nose as he started to talk.

  


“You say ‘y’all’ a lot.” Alex shook his head as he pulled out his laptop. 

  


John giggled, laying back and laying the bowl in his friend’s lap. “You use what’s in here, tell me if you run out.” He warned, closing his eyes.

  


“Stingy, stingy.”

  


Alex watched as Lafayette took his own draw from the pipe, then back at John. He had been absentmindedly looking at the ceiling, head lolling side to side as the high overtook. He had obviously smoked before arriving. Alex turned his attention to the bag sitting at his feet and loaded up the screen, only to have a blank document staring him in the face.

  


“Alex,” John whispered, now sprawling out on the bed. Alex glanced up from his computer and saw John’s head was upside down, on Lafayette’s shoulder. “Alex.”

  


“Can I help you?” He raised an eyebrow questionably, which earned a smile from Lafayette. 

  


“You want some?” He asked. John nodded excitedly as if to say  _ take it _ . “We got you a forty piece nugget like last time.”

  


“I had a forty piece last week?” 

  


“Oh yeah. We shared a large fry, too.” John giggled, and slid into the floor. “Alex,” He extended his arm out to Alex, and yelled, long and drawn out, “Take it,”

  


Alex shrugged, pushing his laptop aside. “Give it.”

  


You’d think they were fifteen year olds, because as Alex put the flame to the bowl Lafayette started clapping and John was cackling. He couldn’t help but laugh at the two against his bed, and he coughed with his laughter, smoke daring to suffocate him.

  


“ _ Alexander _ .”


	2. Chapter 2

John’s laughter came to a full stop.

“Oh shit,” John sighed, clutching his bag to his chest. “Should we go?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Christ almighty, Jack. We aren’t sixteen, two of us are over twenty one years old. He just wanted me to stop smoking in the kitchen, it gives my mom a headache.”

John was pacing, smoothing out his curls with a deep breath. “Is your dad going to call the cops?” A panic stricken John dropped to the floor dramatically. “Alex. I don’t want to go to jail, _you just got the G_.”

Lafayette laid his head on the boy’s shoulder, rubbing his back sympathetically. “Calme-toi, tu es paranoiaque.”

John sobbed into his hands. “I don’t know what you just said!”

“He said you’re paranoid.” Alex said. He lit the bowl again and took another draw.

“Alexander!” George yelled again. “come downstairs!”

Alex exhaled, closing his eyes. “I’ll be right there!” He stood up, making his way to the door. He turned to look over his shoulder, “You guys coming?”

Lafayette smiled groggily. “Mmhm.” Standing, he took John’s hand. “Come on, Jack.”

John groaned. “Attendez,” He latched onto Lafayette’s arm. “What if he’s mad?”

“Then Alex will deal with it.” He responded in a hushed voice, grabbing a strand and straightening it out. “Let’s get up.”

He nodded with a pout. Alex remembered every now and then that John was just nineteen years old. Their relationship was mainly long distance for about five years, as he was living in Charleston with his father and younger sister. When he turned eighteen he took a trip to Albany with his sister Martha to look at apartments. Martha was only thirteen at the time, but she was more like a babysitter to her older brother than vice versa.

He ended up meeting with all of Alex’s friends and current girlfriend, they ended up hitting it off and he fitting in neatly with their group. Lafayette’s roommate had recently moved out, so he was on the hunt for someone to help out with rent. John Laurens, fresh out of high school with his daddy’s big senator money, volunteered and split the rent 60/40 with him, he drove back down south with Alex, Alex’s girlfriend, and his little sister.

“Eliza, I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” He said, hands on the wheel and eyes dead set on the road ahead of him.

“You can’t have my girlfriend,” Alex joked, “She’s spoken for.”

“Why?” Eliza asked, brows furrowed.

“My dad is starting to catch on,” He mumbled. Martha laid still in the back of the car, if he talked quietly this conversation would go smoothly.

“What?”

“He’s gay, ‘Liza.”

“Oh,” she nodded, grabbing Alex’s hand as he put it over the seat. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles affectionately.

“He knows Alex and I are friends and he knows I’m moving down there to go to art school and all that, and he knows about Alex, but I never mentioned any of your friends, Alex.” He swallowed, foot easing off the gas to shift his weight in the seat. “So, I was thinking I say that Alex introduced us a few months ago and we’ve been in a long distance relationship since.”

“Don’t know why you don’t just tell him.” Alex insisted, releasing Eliza’s hand and folding his leg under himself, turning towards John.

“‘Republican Senator Henry Laurens’ Oldest and Only Son Comes Out As Homosexual’ sounds like a great headline, Alex. I’d never considered it.”

Alex laughed, nodding with a shrug. “Fair enough,”

“It’s settled then?” John looked into the mirror to see her nod at his question. He eased off the gas again and pulled off the exit. “Thank you, Eliza.”

She smiled, and they rode in silence, Eliza and Martha sleep silently without as much as a stir in the back seat while John drove anxiously. Alex put in his headphones, and stared out the window for an extra hour before dozing off, watching the trees and lights pass by.

Everyone but John slept the whole time. He had to drive, even if he didn’t he would be too on edge to sleep. Moving out was a good choice. Alex shifted in the seat, woken by the voice on the speakers of a fast food drive-thru. “One second, please.” He turned to his friend and smiled softly. “Do you and Eliza want anything?”

Alex nodded, squinting his eyes at the sunlight that broke through the windshield. “Surprise me,”

John smiled harder, laughing. “Can I get a . . . smoked sausage biscuit, and a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit?” He coughed. “Excuse me. And can I also get three Monster Biscuits?”

“Three?” Alex asked, shocked.

John ignored him. “No, we don’t need any drinks, that’s all.” John had this voice he used on people he wasn’t comfortable with, and he always used it, he used it when he met Aaron, and Lafayette, and Thomas. It was higher pitched and more eloquent than his regular voice. Alex found it endearing. “The third one is for my dad.” He said, pulling up to the next window.

“Where are we?”

“Charleston.”

“Shit. ‘Liza, baby, wake up.” Alex reached his hands to the back of the headrest and hit it a few times. “Babe,”

She jerked in the seat, scrubbing her eyes. “How long was I sleep?”

“About 7 hours,” John said, reaching through the window and trading his credit card for the bag of food, which was stuffed to the brim with wrapped sandwiches. “Eliza, can you wake up Martha? She’ll rip off my arm if I do it.”

Eliza stifled a laugh. “Martha, honey, we got breakfast,”

“Hm?” Martha made a protesting noise and pulled her hoodie strings, drawing the hood over her face.

“Kid, I got you a Monster Biscuit.”

“Oh, fuck yes!” She shot up enthusiastically.

“Language.” He said sternly, tossing the wrapped sandwich at her.

“Jack, I’m almost 14.” Martha said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

“Exactly, you know dad would pop you in the mouth if he heard you say that.” He laughed. “Don’t say fuck, you can say hell and damn.”

“You can say the fuck word around me, Mar.” Alex grinned as his arm bent back to hand Eliza her breakfast.

“Don’t encourage her.” He shook his head, tucking his credit card into the wallet before tossing it carelessly into the console.

Returning to the Laurens’ estate was an ordeal; his heart was racing. He pursed his lips and turned around, backing into his usual parking spot. “Ready babe?” He smiled at Eliza.

Alex warned, “Don’t get too frisky, you can hold her hand.”

“Mar, I’ll let you say fuck around me and not dad if you make me a promise.” She nodded excitedly, and he continued, “Play along, Eliza is my girlfriend.”

“But she’s Alex’s girlfriend...” she said, confused.

“Yeah, but dad wants to see me with a girlfriend, so can you follow along?”

“Fuck yeah!”

“I’ll miss ya, babe.” Alex blew a kiss. “This is a taste of life without me.”

“Thank god,” she mumbled, teasing.

Alex gasped, hand clasped over his heart dramatically. “Rude!”

John stepped out of the car and opened the door for Martha, and made his way to the other side to open his “girlfriend’s” door. “M’lady,”

“You suck at this, Jack.” Alex smiled, and straightened his clothes.

“Shut up,” he gestured inside. “Get the food, please?”

“Of course, Mr. Laurens.” Alex curtseyed.

John gave an initially mean look, but let his mouth twitch into a small smile. “Watch it, Hamilton.”

John grabbed Eliza’s hand anxiously, and she instinctively ran her thumb over his knuckles. “It’s okay, John,” She whispered.

He nodded frantically, and she heard him glup when his hand landed on the doorknob, pressing down and pushing in. “Pops?” He called, his voice cracking made Eliza grip his hand tighter. “We got Hardee’s!” He shouted exponentially louder after steadying himself and clearing his throat.

John made his way into the kitchen, hand laced tightly with Eliza’s. “He’s probably in his office,” he mumbled, eyes locking with Alex as he placed the bag on the table.

Martha trailed in behind Alex, her duffel bag on her shoulder. “You gotta be loud,” she smiled mischievously and screamed, “Papa!”

Silence lingered, but Henry made his way down the stairs and shot a look towards Martha. “Do you have to be so loud when I’m trying to work?”

She shrugged, “S’only way to get your attention, sorry.”

Henry ignored her and gave John a smile. “Hey there, m’boy. How was your trip?”

“S’okay, I made a lot of friends and found an apartment.” He smiled back, pulling the biscuit out of the bag and handing it to Henry. “I don’t know if you heard, we got you Hardee’s.”

“Thanks,” he stood at the table and unwrapped his sandwich. “Tell me about it? Introduce me to this fine young lady?”

John gave another shy smile, much like the one he gave before making his way inside, and nodded. “I was waiting to introduce you, we’ve only been dating for a few months,” He shifted on his feet, and wrapped a hand around her waist. “This is - this is my girlfriend, Eliza.”

“Eliza?” He raised an eyebrow and offered his hand out.

She nodded. “Eliza Schuyler,” She took his hand.

“Henry Laurens.” He retorted, face contorting questionably at the figure leaning in the foyer. “Who’s this?”

Alex can feel the uncomfortableness practically radiating off of John, forcing an even bigger smile. “This is my friend Alex, he’s driving the U-Haul back to Albany.”

Henry nodded, “G’day, son” Alex nodded back, a look of mutual neutrality painted on the both of them. “Ok, now tell me. How was the trip back?”

The conversation droned on, tedious, stiff, and Eliza’s hand tightly against John’s. Alex felt a pang of jealousy. Eventually, Martha took off upstairs with what was left of her food with a shout of: “See ya, dad!”

Alex watched John finish breakfast quickly, and rigidly stood up, his hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “Well, pops, we should get packing, right, babe?”

She stiffened, swallowing her food. “Yeah, yeah.” John headed towards the stairs and Eliza followed, pushing in her chair. “Alex, you coming?” She called.

“Oh, sorry!” He stood, and turned back to Henry and smiled. “It was wonderful to meet you, sir.”

By the time they reached the top of the steps he whispered, “Did you bring your vape?”

“Here ya go, kid.” Alex pulled the mod out of his pocket.

Frantically, he took it into his mouth and pulled until he started choking. “Fuck,” After he caught his breath, he took another, this time, more controlled.

Alex laughed, “Cool it.”

John shook his head in retaliation, taking draw after draw and making his way down the hall to his room, Eliza and Alex followed suit.

He held the vapor in his chest until he heard Alex shut the door with an audible click!, then he expelled everything in his lungs and doubled over his lap. “Fuck.”

Alex sat next to him and pat his back gently. “Don’t burn up my coils.”

John relaxed as he shook with laughter, lifting up to take another hit while locking eyes with him. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” he blew the smoke in Alex’s face, grinning. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Alex smiled back and ruffled his hair affectionately, “That’s what I like to see.” John beamed at the praise, the nicotine catching up quickly. He took another drag, to which Alex responded by taking the mod out of John’s hands and placed them in his coat pocket. “What do you need to take with you?”

“Books were in boxes before I left,” He pointed to the empty bookcase with boxes poorly taped shut in front of it; his chest still heaving, “and then my clothes, my bookcases, my dresser, and the junk I didn’t want to get rid of is in the closet, so the boxes an’ my furniture.”

“What about your bed?” Eliza chimed in, sliding against the wall and sitting on the floor with her legs crossed.

“It’s a twin that I’ve had since I was like, eight,” John leaned over Alex and desperately tried to dig the mod out of his jacket. “Please, Alex! I promise I’ll be slow, I’ll buy you more juice when we leave!”

Alex sighed, allowing him access to the pocket. He yanked it out with unnecessary force and held the mouthpiece to his lips once again, only to choke on the flow of vapor. “So, I don’t need it, I’m buying a new one when I get to the city.”

“Look, Jack.” He pulled the mod away from him, holding the mouthpiece up to his lips as demonstration. “You don’t need to deepthroat it, hover your lips over it and breath in through your mouth. You’re like an animal.”

He nodded and held the device to his lips and looked to Alex for approval. He nodded.

“Can we get to work now?”

Packing the bags wasn’t a problem, it was carting it by Henry, who offered absolutely no help. John placed the box down on the truck harshly, and Alex grinned. “He’s watching you from the window,”

John froze, and licked his lips anxiously. “Oh god.”

Henry opened the front door and stepped onto the deck. “Eliza, Jacky, can you come here?”

“Oh god, oh god, oh no.” He straightened his spine and steadied his shoulders, taking Eliza’s hand into his. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbled.

“Shush,” She smiled.

“Pops?” He leaned against the banister, shaking ever so slightly.

“Can I get a picture of you two?” He asked.

Eliza grinned, “I’d love to, Henry.”

She tilted her head against John’s shoulder. He grabbed her waist gently. His heart started pounding harder than it had been since they left Albany, his chest ached. Eliza kissed his cheek and Henry snapped the picture. He looked proud.

From the truck, Alex crossed his arms.

“Can I get one of you two kissing?” John’s heart dropped into his stomach and his eyes widened. Nonetheless, he knew how to placate his father. He turned Eliza toward him and pressed their foreheads together, breathing deeply. He pulled her into a chaste kiss, and Eliza draped her arm over his shoulder. The cell phone made another snapping sound and he pulled away with a forced smile.

What was about ten seconds felt more like ten years, and John shuddered anxiously. “Good enough?” He looked over at his father, eyes narrowed. “Is that enough?”

Henry nodded, “You two are precious together.”

Eliza smiled sweetly. “Thank you, your Jack is a real gentleman.”

“He better be.” John looked down awkwardly, fiddling with his shirt. Henry went on to explain how John has always been disciplined accordingly to shape him into a “strapping young man with good manners”, but whatever else he said John didn’t hear, he was miles away.

“Can we get back to packing?” Alex yelled across the yard through cupped hands, John perked up at the sound of his voice.

“Coming!” He glanced over his shoulder before turning back to Henry. “We’re gonna try to be out of here by eight o’clock, ok?”

“Nonsense, you shouldn’t be on the road all night!” Henry bellowed, patting John’s shoulder so hard he jerked forward.

“We did just fine last night, it’s ok.” He turned back to his friend once more, smiling sympathetically. “Alex has nowhere to sleep, that would be rude.”

“I can give you money for a hotel, at least, m’boy.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s ok.”

He turned and briskly made his way to Alex, who looked as pissed as he thought he would. “I’m so sorry,” He whispered, banging his head against the truck.

“How many boxes are left?” He smiled, shaking his head.

“A few. We should be finished with the boxes after we get what’s in my closet and then I need to get my chester drawers in the truck but otherwise,” He took a steadying breath, still shaking. “I don’t need anything else.”

“Ok, let’s get that in the car and go, this is pitiful.” Alex ambled forward, arms swinging at his side. “Move it, loverboy!” He called, walking backwards.

Packing the drawer in the car was the hardest out of all of it, and Alex grinned as Eliza and John hugged Henry goodbye. He waved, but remained at a distance.

“Let’s hit the road, Jack!” He yelled. “Later, Mr. Laurens!”

John smiled, visibly exhausted. “G’bye, pops.”

As soon as John shut the door, he exhaled. “I’m so sorry, Alex.”

“Your dad could’ve asked you to fuck Eliza right there and you would’ve done it.”

“Shut up.”

“Henry says jump and you ask ‘how high’.”

“He scares me.”

“He scares everybody.” Alex assured, buckling his seatbelt. “Did you have fun cheating on me today, babe?” He grinned, adjusting the mirror to see her eyes.

She nodded enthusiastically. “A wonderful time, we should become swingers.”

“Hm, good idea, babe, we’ll look at some clubs when we get home.” He nodded.

Eliza stayed up, watching Alex through the rearview mirror. John passed out almost immediately after getting on the road, and Alex turned music on, just loud enough to keep him awake.

Alex smiled fondly at the memory, John’s head resting against the seatbelt with the occasional snore to be heard. He made his home in Albany, and the longer he was away from his father, the more at peace he seemed. John was still a little kid at heart, always looking for a thrill. Lafayette grabbed his hand and said, “We’ll go downstairs together, ok?” He nodded, sniffling.

“Alright, drop the act,” Alex punched his shoulder lightly. “You’re a grown man.”

“You’re bein’ mean!” John clutched at his shirt dramatically and feigned his hurt.

Alex elected to ignore his dramaticism, and made his way downstairs. He hooked his hand on the banister and swung in an outward circle. “Dad?”

George was carrying on a conversation with someone out of sight, and with Alex’s call, it came to a grinding halt. He turned his head to the three making their way downstairs, John tucked into Lafayette’s arms comfortingly and Alex's crossed.

“Got a favor to ask,” said a heavy southern accent. Alex groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

“What is it, Thomas?” He hissed, toying with the strings to his hoodie. “Did you bring my dad here so I have to say yes?”

 

Thomas laughed, pulling out his phone absentmindedly, “I brought him here because I wanted his opinion.”

 

“On?”

 

Thomas shifted on his feet, whatever sarcastic grin he carried when he caught their attention was long gone, his expression serious. “I need you three to come with me, somewhere really important. No questions asked.” He added, stepping forward. “So pack your bags, Hamilton. You two go home and do the same.”

 

“Woah,” Alex protested, hands up. “no, I’m gonna need more than that.”

 

Thomas sighed, “You owe me a no questions asked, Alexander.”

 

His mouth was already open to defend himself, but he shrunk back. “Fine. Can you just tell us where we’re going?”

 

“Oregon.” He said.

 

“I have a job, Thomas!”

 

“Daddy already called your boss, next week off.”

 

Alex shrunk back when he called his father ‘ _daddy_ ’. “What did you tell him?”

  
“You’re depressed. Need some time for your mental health.” He wasn’t wrong, so he didn’t fight back.

  
“Thanks, dad.” Alex groaned, stomping his feet in defeat when George shot him a thumbs up. “Fine, ok, fine.” He turned to the two behind him. “Go pack, we’ll pick you up.”

 

“Thomas ain’t got shit on me,” John stepped back. “I don’t have to go.”

 

The look shot his way was enough to make him pull the keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go, Lafayette.”

 

“I’ll be there in an hour,” Alex called to the two already halfway out the door.

 

Louder, Thomas yelled, “Half an hour!”

 

Alex turned on his feet to his father, who already had two pill bottles in his hand. “Don’t forget your medicine, Alexander.”

 

“You’re a big help, dad.” He grumbled, taking the bottles and heading upstairs, Thomas following behind.

 

Alex sighed and covered his face with his hands, listening to Thomas’ footsteps as they made their way down the hall. He opened the door and gestured to the bed, as if to say, “sit”. Thomas complied, looking around as Alex dug in his closet.

 

“Fuck you,” He spat.

 

“What did I do now?” He yelled, turning around with a pile of clothes in his arms.

 

“You were smoking and didn’t invite me!” He folded his arms and shrieked when Alex threw a t-shirt at his face.

 

“Look, if you wanted weed so much, I’ve got a gram in the drawer.”

 

“And where do I get a pipe?” He asked.

 

“You really didn’t bring your pipe?

 

There was a pause, Thomas stared at Alex, busy packing away at his bag. “Shut up,” he mumbled. Alex threw the bag at his side carelessly, heading back towards the closet.

 

“What do I need?” His arms dropped at his side, he narrowed his eyes at Thomas, now laying down and carelessly scrolling through his phone. He waited for an answer. “Thomas,”

 

“Hm?”

 

“What do I need to bring?”

 

“Oh, clothes, charger, shampoo, basic shit,” he said, locking the screen and watching him intently. “we gotta be on the road by two _at the most_ , so if you think you need it, put it in the bag.”

 

“Why do you need us? What about James? Or Aaron?” Alex zipped the main compartment of his bag, now stuffed to the brim with clothes.

 

Thomas scoffed, “James has a new girlfriend, if I try to tear them apart for a week she’s either coming with us or I won’t hear the end of it,” he shivered at the thought. “but don’t worry, we’re picking up Aaron.”

 

“Does Aaron owe you a no questions asked?”

 

“Oh yeah,” he said, almost evilly.

 

“Are you going to tell us why we’re going to Oregon?”

 

“Family favor.” Thomas said bluntly, pulling absently at the rips in his jeans.

 

“Fair enough,” Alex shrugged, carrying the bag into the bathroom and tossing it on the floor. Thomas sat in silence, the only sound being Alex rummaging through his cabinets and drawers for about five minutes, followed by the sound of him hurriedly zipping the bag shut. “Go start the car, I need to talk to my dad,” he threw the keys to Thomas, who stood with agitation radiating off of him.

 

“Make it quick.”

 

Alexander Hamilton had always been a daddy’s boy. He clung to his adoptive father since he was brought into his home. He tried not to, but he couldn’t help but beam for a moment when his father gave him a smile. “I know you’re mad.” George started.

 

“A little,” he rolled his eyes sarcastically. “I’m more mad that Thomas came to you first.”

 

“He’s worried about you.”

 

Alex frowned. “Why?”

 

“Alexander, you attempted suicide last fall.”

 

He laughed nervously, looking away. “Yeah,”

 

“He asked if I thought it’d do you some good to get out of the house.” He walked forward and pulled Alex into a hug. “Please, have some fun with your friends. You’re not doing any good staying cooped up day in and day out.”

 

“I go to work,” he protested as he pulled away. “I don’t stay here all the time.”

 

“But do you do anything else but work?”

 

He bit his lip. “Ok, ok, I’m going.”

 

“I love you, son.” George forced Alex into another hug, to which he responded by closing his eyes and hugging back with a vice-like grip. He stayed like that for a moment, until Thomas honked the horn from outside. Alex stepped back and smiled softly at his father.

 

“I’ll call you tonight.” He promised, grabbing his bag and heading to the car.

 

Alex shambled his way behind the car and tapped the window, from the rear view mirror he saw Thomas roll his eyes and fumble to pop the trunk. He made eye contact and slowly set his bag in the trunk. “I’m sorry, do we have somewhere to be?”

 

“Hurry up, or I’m running over you.”

 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He mumbled as he slammed the trunk shut. When he climbed into the passenger seat, he shook his head. “Wait just a goddamn minute, this is my car!”

 

“You took too long, now your candy’s gone.” Thomas teased, sticking out his tongue.

 

“I’m driving, move it or I’ll make you ride in the trunk.” He ordered.

 

Thomas groaned and unbuckled his seat-belt before crawling into the passenger seat. Once Alex got in his seat, he adjusted the seat exactly to his liking and said under his breath, “asshole wants to drive my one-hundred-sixty thousand dollar car, out of his fucking mind.”

 

“You got something to say?”

 

“You must be outta your _goddamn_ mind if you think I’m letting you drive this car.” Alex adjusted the mirror and Thomas leaned against the window as if Alex was getting ready to attack. “Will you text Lafayette?”

 

Thomas nodded and pulled his phone out of the cup holder. Alex watched him type, glancing between his swift-moving hands and the road. When he finished he looked to his friend; the look on his face was unmistakable “You seem sad, Alexander.”

 

“I am sad.” Alex said, assuring him.

 

“Have you been taking your medicine?” Thomas looked genuinely concerned, and that was not a look he was used to seeing.

 

He laughed, hitting the steering wheel in defeat. “Y’know, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve been asked that in the past eight months, I’d be even more rich than I am now.”

 

Thomas smiled. “You’re so pretentious,” his smile faltered. “I’m serious though, Alex. We’re all worried.”

 

“Who’s _we_?” He retorted, his face scrunching up angrily, as if he was being accused of something.

 

“All of us. Me, Jack, Lafayette, Aaron, James, we’re all really worried about you.”

 

“No reason to be,” Alex sighed, pressing on the gas and slamming on the breaks right after. “I’m sorry, you should drive.” He threw the car in park and got out of the car. Thomas watched him from the passenger seat and slowly made his way out.

 

“What made you change your mind?” Thomas asked.

 

“I’m high and suicidal.” He answered, avoiding his friend’s gaze like the plague.

 

Thomas stood at his side and opened his mouth to speak. Alex hated sincerity, especially when it came from his best friends. He’d rather die than be seen as weak. He’d rather die. Alex knew exactly what Thomas was going to say, so he answered before Thomas could get the words out. “Yes, I do.”

 

Thomas gave a fond smile and secured him in a hug. “Look, you’re gonna have fun this week, ok?”

 

He nodded and took a deep breath. Thomas let him stay like that as long as he liked. Alex stood there on the side of the road, his head tucked into his friend’s chest. “Ok, let’s go.”

 

Alex climbed into the passenger seat, where Thomas waited for him to situate himself. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

 

With the sound of the seat belt clicking into place he looked up with a forged smile. “Yeah, can we please just go?”

 

Thomas kept his eyes on Alex, who looked small again, his mood changing so quickly was a common occurrence. He was still concerned, nonetheless. The words of his father remained at the front of his mind. “ _Please keep an eye on him; he won’t always tell you if he’s upset_.”

 

He shook his head and turned his attention to the road, shooting the occasional glance to Alex, his eyes were gazing out the window, but his eyes weren’t watching anything specifically.

 

And Alex was smart. He told people he was an idiot, that he can’t do anything right, but he had the issue of acting as if he were the smartest person in the room no matter where he went and he _always_ had an answer to everything, typical Capricorn. He was his own worst enemy, and the only thing that got in his way was himself. Thomas smiled, chest filling with fondness for Alex. Almost protective, almost like an older brother.

 

Thomas didn’t say anything, maybe he’d perk up with John in the car, so all he had to do was make it to their apartment. “Text them and tell them we’re almost there.”

 

“You just texted them five minutes ago.” Alex said.

 

“And we’re getting on the road as soon as I pull up. I still gotta get Aaron in the car.”

 

“Why does Aaron owe you a no questions asked?”

 

Thomas cracked his knuckles, ready to tell his tale. “His sophomore year he went to this party,” he smiled when Alex laughed. “I know. And they got him high as a kite.”

 

“On?”

 

“I think it was some creeper. They told him it took a lot for him to feel the effects of it. So he smoked three grams of it.” Thomas was grinning, “James was there, so he calls me and tells me everything. So I pull up to this party, ready to carry this mother fucker to my car. And I think it was at Dani Mcclellan’s house, you remember her?”

 

“How could I forget, the bitch.” He chuckled. “So you pick him up?”

 

“So I walk in there, mind you I’m six feet tall and black, and these kids, most of them were underclassmen, these kids looked like I walked in with an AK-47 in my hands. Some of them were so crossfaded they thought I was a cop,” Alex was cackling now, holding back his laughter to the best of his ability. Thomas continued, suppressing his laugh. “I see this room of mostly freshman scatter like a hoard of mice and I just make my way upstairs, I make my way into the room that’s got a closed door and smoke coming out from underneath it like a goddamn fire was lit.”

 

“And there’s Aaron?”

 

“And there’s Aaron,” he confirmed, “and James, but this dumbass is sitting there on the floor with a bong in his hand,  he can barely sit up straight, and everyone in the room is smoking _something,_ all sitting around him with their eyes on James.”

 

“Where’s James?”

 

“Playing Edward Fortyhands with Michael Hutson on the couch.” Thomas pulled into the apartment complex and slowed down to finish his story. “James has the strongest alcohol tolerance of anyone I’ve ever met, he’s downed almost both of the bottles at this point. And as soon as I get a good look at everyone in the room, Michael Hutson doubles over and barfs.”

 

Alex was also doubled over, his laughter almost a scream.

 

“James finishes the last of the drink, and stands on the couch,” he pulled into a parking spot and honked the horn. “He stands on the couch and he says ‘ _I’d like to thank Thomas Jefferson, who showed up last minute to see my debut as baddest bitch in Albany High_ ’, and he passes out.”

 

“Then what?” Alex wiped tears from his eyes and held his sides in agony.

 

“So Aaron, who has never touched weed before or since, looks up at me like a little kid does when he finds out Santa isn’t real, and he attempts to stand up. I look over at Dani Mcclellan, who’s sitting on the bed with a vape to her lips and a blunt in the other hand. I tell her I’m coming _right back_ , and I load Aaron into the back seat and lock the doors, he couldn’t figure out how to open it anyway, but I didn’t want to come out, find he got out, and have this stoned kid wandering the streets of Albany.”

 

Thomas adjusted his position, sitting on his feet and shifting to look out the back window. Alex is still laughing, but he’s texting John and looking towards the building. “Continue,”

 

“Right, ok. I head back upstairs and James is still out, so I pick him up, he’s about your height and weighs less than you, and once I’ve got him in my arms, I say goodbye to all the kids, and tell them to have fun, and I set him in the backseat with Aaron, who’s awake, but _fucked up_.”

 

John and Lafayette were walking out of their apartment with bags in hand and an exasperated look on their face in response to Thomas’ request. Lafayette opened the door and climbed in, bag tucked tightly under his arm. “What are we talking about?”

 

“The Dani Mcclellan story, our senior year.”

 

Lafayette also began to laugh at the mere mention of the event, “A good one, do continue.”

 

Without hesitation, Thomas is speaking again as he popped the trunk for John to put his bags. “Aaron is still awake, and he looks at me through the mirror, and he says, I shit you not, ‘ _you look like a drug dealer_ -.”

 

This sentence alone has Alex screaming again, tears pooling in his eyes, and he shrieked: “ _What_?”

 

“ _It’s because you got all them cats_ ’. And then he passed out too. I’ve got these two sophomores in the backseat of my car. I try to wake them up and ask if they want to go home, but they’re not moving, they’re both gone, done for the night and prob’ly tomorrow too. And I am _not_ about to take them home so their parents can beat their ass for getting so fucked up, so I go home.”

 

Lafayette was holding in laughter, lips compressed, ”Then what, Thomas?”

 

“It was late, and I didn’t want to deal with my step-dad, so I pulled a blanket out from the trunk and covered them up and went to sleep.” He shrugged, grinning ear to ear. “And when I get in the car in the morning to go to school, they’re still asleep.”

 

John had been rummaging through his bag the entire time, but he eventually said, “Who are we talking about?”

 

“Aaron and James.” Lafayette answers, looking over his shoulder. “What are you looking for, mon chou?”

 

John blushed at the pet name and looked back at the bag. “My pipe.”

 

“You left it in the car.” He gestured across the parking lot to John’s car.

 

“Fuck,” He slammed the trunk and ran back up the stairs to get his keys.

 

Thomas continued his story once there was a moment of silence. “I wake them up, they’re both hungover as _shit_ , and to this day they’re still furious at me for bringing them to school.”

 

Alex laughed until John came through the doors to the apartment and ran to his car, and he began his question with a deep inward breath. “But how is that a no questions asked?”

 

“Tell him I told you and I kill you, but I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone. That equates to a no questions asked, you all owe me something that equates to a no questions asked.” Thomas said matter-of-factly, and with that, John swung open the door and jumped in.

 

Alex turned his head and squinted at his friend. “You’re getting awfully comfortable with my car, Jack.”

 

“It’s a nice car, Alex, sue me!” John replied in defense.

 

“If you fuck up my car I will sue you.” He warned, turning around and adjusting his seatbelt.

 

“If you’re so protective of your car, why is Thomas driving?” Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and he heard John curse under his breath. “Alex, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s ok, I’m just a depressed bastard.” He forced a laugh and turned to Thomas. “Lets go.”

 

John threw his head back against the seat and sighed. “I really am sorry,”

 

“It really is ok,” he ran his hands up the auxiliary cord and plugged his phone into it. “Any requests?”

 

Thomas raised an eyebrow questionably, “As if anything we suggest will be something you play.”

 

“Smart boy,” he laughed and hit shuffle. Alex had a strange taste in music, playlist ranging from what could be considered indie from the early 2000’s to pop music released in 2010. The first song blaring through the speakers is the latter, everyone but Alex jumps at the volume, he’s unaffected.   


“Don’t you think that’s a little loud?” John yelled from the back, leaning closer to Alex.

 

He turned his head. “What?” John covered his ears as a demonstration and Alex yelled back, “You’re a pussy.”

 

Thomas controlled the volume from the steering wheel, looking over at Alex. “I want to be able to hear.” and without as much as another word, he instinctively adjusted the mirror, backing out into the parking lot. “Alright, now Aaron.”

 

“Think it’ll be easy to get Aaron to join us?” Lafayette chimed in, fidgeting to get comfortable in the seat.

 

“Again, no questions asked.”

 

John was not at fault for this, he wasn’t there, so the question he asked was warranted, “How does he owe you a no questions asked?” The other three started up once again, and Thomas recounted the story again, and once more, Alex howled with laughter the entire time.

 

“And none of you know that story, it never happened.” He looked around at everyone, who nodded in agreement. Incidentally, the five of them lived relatively close to one another, so they had already gotten to Aaron’s house. Putting the car in park and unhooking his seatbelt, he grinned. “Ok, we need to be out of here by one, and if I have to drag this asshole out with my bare hands I will.”

 

Thomas made his way onto the deck by himself, insisting that they stay in the car. They watched from there. Once the door opened Aaron smiled initially, and as Thomas continued to speak they saw the smile fade from his face, he looked a mix of angry and terrified. He looked down in defeat, and they watched him open the door wider and gesture for Thomas to come inside.

 

Aaron didn’t waste any time, and neither did Thomas, because Thomas came out looking proud of himself with Aaron on his arm no more than ten minutes later.

 

Aaron opened the back door and the three of them met his gaze. “You too, huh?” Thomas had already gotten in the car by the time he sat down with the bag set nicely in his lap. He frowned, “Jackass.”

 

“What time is it?” Thomas looked to Alex for an answer, who already had his nose buried in his phone.

 

After a moment of silence, he looked up. “12:53.”

 

Thomas buried himself in his phone for quite some time too, and Aaron coughed. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

 

“Bend, Oregon.” He answered sharply.

 

“Care to tell us why?”

 

“No questions asked.” Thomas reminded. Aaron kept his mouth shut. Thomas went on, “I’ve got a vague idea of where we’re going, to be honest I’m just taking it state by state. Lemme look at the map for a second and see what’s easiest.”

 

“Are there pit stops?”

 

“Maybe,” Thomas smirked.

 

“How many?”

 

“Two or three important ones.”

 

“Can you tell us the first pit stop?” Aaron threw his arms up, huffing and puffing angrily.

 

“Chicago.”

 

Alex put his phone down and groaned. “Ok, so we’re going through Ohio. You were in such a rush to be on the road, can we just fucking go already?” Alex, once again being a typical Capricorn, took it upon himself to immediately plug in directions to Cleveland, to which Thomas opened his mouth to protest, and Alex cut him off before given the opportunity. “We are _not_ driving all night to Chicago. We stay at a hotel in Cleveland.”

 

Thomas continued driving, clutching the wheel tightly and thanking the heavens when his reprieve arrived at the moments the GPS gave an instruction through the speakers and he got a break from Alex’s deafening music. No matter how much he turned it down, Alex would combat with turning it back up, a smug look colored gracefully on his face.

 

Alex would occasionally comply with someone’s request for a specific song, given they scream loud enough. Lafayette had tapped out as soon as he heard the static from the radio from the short in the aux cord. He plugged in his headphones. John smoked the entire time, to which Aaron would complain, “ _It gives me a headache,_ ” or “ _roll down the window some of us like to breathe oxygen!_ ”

 

Thomas replied, “Aaron, for the love of god, you’re twenty one years old, can you please grow a pear?”

 

The incessant whining stopped there, and music is all that was heard, save the instructions from the GPS. Thomas savored the moments like that. Where he no longer felt like a parent to four elementary aged children, turning around to say, “ _don’t make me come back there_.”

 

“ _Keep left to stay on I-90 west for 214 miles_ .” Everyone groaned, and Thomas, who was the epitome of road rage, growled and sped around the line of cars going fifty miles an hour on the interstate in the _left hand lane_.

 

Through the windows they rolled down (mostly because John was hotboxing the car), he shouted, “ _Assholes!_ ”

 

John started to speak, but nobody could really hear him. Thomas turned the volume down once again. “Alex, you can’t keep the music this loud. I want to hear people when they speak.”

 

“When did you become my dad?”

 

“When you decided to act like a spoiled twelve year old.” Thomas spat back, and looked up in the rearview mirror at John. “What, Jack?”

 

“What about gas and food?”

 

Alex turned around and started recounting his plan. “My car can go six-hundred-twenty-five miles with a full tank. We’ll make it to Cleveland by nine o’clock.”

 

“What if I get hungry?”

 

“Nicotine is an appetite suppressant.” Thomas laughed, “you should make it.”

 

Aaron inhaled sharply. “Don’t encourage him to smoke. I brought snacks, John.”

 

Alex glanced over to Thomas with a very specific look, one that carried pure exhaustion. He said, “of course you did,”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I always make it emo, and I'm not sorry

The rest of the trip carried on the same way it started. Thomas cursed himself for not being smart enough to bring headphones like Lafayette, who had been asleep for the past four hours. Alex had eventually kept quiet, scrolling through his phone to pass the time. Aaron rolled the window down and leaned against it as if John was contaminated.

 

John eventually convinced Thomas to pull off into the next rest area, to which everyone climbed out to stretch their legs gratefully. John practically ran inside, claiming he wanted to buy something from a vending machine and  _ finally piss _ , as if it’s been an eternity since he’s done either of those things. 

 

Alex opened the back door and was greeted by Lafayette out cold, curled up against the other side of the car. Aaron’s bag was sitting neatly in the floor, so Alex reached in to find something solid. A bottle of vitamins. “ _ Fucking loser _ .” He thought, before throwing it at Lafayette.

 

Lafayette jolted, took out his headphones and looked around, to see Alex standing outside, the others out of sight. “Where are we?”

 

“Close to Erie, PA.” Alex straightened up and cracked his neck. “Gotta pee? We’re just at a rest stop.”

 

He nodded and crawled out of the car. Alex trailed behind, hands intertwined and picking at his cuticles anxiously.

 

The five of them bought a candy bar of their choice from the vending machine, along with a soda from the one next to it. Alex paid for it, he offered, credit card tucked tightly between his index and middle finger. He watched them eat their candy bars while he talked over plans with Thomas. “I’m thinking we stay at The Westin.” The others agreed. 

 

But, then again, they would’ve stayed in the rest stop’s bathroom if it meant they got out of the car for a while.

 

Regardless, they still had places to be, Alex reminded, and got everyone to pile back into the car after a twenty minute break. Thomas’ hand had gripped the handle when he said, “Thomas, I’m driving.”

 

He sighed, stepped back, and headed to the passenger seat when John chimed in, “You’ve been front seat the whole time!”

 

“Holy fuck, ok, I’ll sit in the back.” 

 

Alex plugged his phone back into the auxiliary cord, and turned the volume up. “Is everyone else ready to go? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 

Silence, except for Aaron’s huff as he turned towards the window. Alex took that as a “ _ hurry up _ ”, so he yanked the gear shift into drive and floored the gas pedal. Thomas instinctively grabbed the side of the door and yelled warningly.

 

“ _ Alex _ .”

 

“I’ve got it!” He yelled back, swerving around the curb back to the interstate.

 

Alex wasn’t a bad driver, it wasn’t that we was bad at driving. He was just reckless, and John just didn’t expect him to floor it on the interstate. So, warningly, he said, “Alex, under eighty.”

 

“You guys are a bunch of fucking  _ cowards _ .” He jerked over into the left-hand lane. “I know what I’m doing.” His hands were holding onto the wheel for dear life, his chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing and overcorrecting.

 

“No you don’t! Pull over!” Aaron screamed as the tire went off the road. “Low shoulder!”

 

“That is _ not  _ a low shoulder.” He called over the chair.

 

Lafayette didn’t move, not too harshly. He shifted and sighed. “Alex, circle back to the rest stop.”

 

“No,” he answered angrily, pressing the gas harder. “It’s fine.” 

 

“Then slow down,” he said.

 

He was still for a minute, his face softened, eased off the gas and sighed. “Sorry.”

 

Alex had been through a lot in the past eight months, and given all that, the group had a tendency to walk on eggshells around him, for his sake. Aaron was different. He was  _ Mister Safety _ with a capital S. He opened his mouth to scold, but Thomas elbowed him in the side when he heard Aaron’s inbreath.    
  


Alex had slowed down to seventy miles an hour, which was acceptable to everyone. Everyone but Aaron. John looked over to Alex, concerned. “Alex, are you ok?”

 

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. After a moment, he forced out a quiet, “No,”

 

They kept driving. The next song came up, and he kept his composure until the line, the last line, “ _ I’m not gonna sit here and deny what I’m pretty sure I felt. I want what we had, just wanna feel it with someone else. _ ” The tears began to pour and he pressed the gas again.

 

“I’m pulling off this exit,” he mumbled. The sign read a quarter of a mile away, but that was too far for him. He was back at eighty miles an hour.

 

John had turned off the radio, and before going around the exit, he placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder gently. “Can you slow down around the curb, please?”

 

He nodded, the tears continued to fall, no noise except for his labored breathing. He reduced his speed and cried harder. John kept his hand out, available for Alex to hold if he wished. He debated shoving John away, but he did grab his hand as he made his way towards the golden arches in the distance. 

 

The three in the back sat silently, exchanging worried glances. 

 

Alex pulled into the parking lot of Mcdonald’s and put the car in park. The sunset was mostly blocked by trees, and in the close to darkness of the parking lot in an unfamiliar place, Alex sobbed. It was like he had a weight on his chest. He wasn’t silent anymore, he cried and he screamed and he punched the wheel until he was positive his knuckles would bruise.

 

John unhooked his seatbelt and ran over to the driver’s side. John opened the door and helped Alex out of the car. He collapsed in his arms and sobbed. John could hear him heaving for air in his ear. “Alex, can you get in the back and lay down?” He peered into the car at Thomas and Aaron, “You two are up, front seat.”

 

Alex’s crying continued, “I didn’t mean to be so  _ worthless _ , she left because I’m  _ worthless _ !”

 

John rubbed his back sympathetically until Thomas made his way to Alex. “Get his Atarax. In his bag, navy blue, front zipper.”

 

Alex screamed, “You can’t just  _ tranquilize  _ me when I get too much to handle. Why don’t you just  _ leave  _ me like she did? Just leave me here!”

 

John pulled back. “Alex, this is not what this is about.” He rubbed his shoulders in attempt to ground him. “You’re having a meltdown, you can be irrational when this happens. And you know that you need medicine when you start to feel like this, right?” The tears kept falling, and after a long pause, he nodded. John nodded with him. “I’m gonna get your medicine and then I’ll go in and get you an Oreo McFlurry and some fries. Does that sound good?”

 

Alex signaled yes, laid his head against the car, and he continued sobbing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He started coughing, and Thomas rubbed his back as he watched John open the trunk. “I ruin  _ everything _ .”

 

John was searching through the bag, and Lafayette climbed out, two duffel bags hooked on his arm, “I’m gonna make some space in the back, he can lay on one of us.” John nodded and handed the bottle to him.

 

“One pill.” 

 

Lafayette turned the bottle in his hand, fiddling with the label. He opened the door to the car and locked eyes with Aaron, still as the grave. He motioned to the coke bottle in the console and he passed it silently.

 

Thomas tapped Alex gently. “Ok, can you take this?” He held a small red pill in the palm of his hand and took the coke into the other. 

 

Alex complied and swallowed the pill, the tears stopping momentarily before starting right back up at the thought of her. Lafayette and Thomas ushered him into the back seat. Alex crawled in and took a deep, shaky breath. Lafayette followed and Alex responded by immediately dropping his head against his shoulder. Lafayette started petting his hair softly as he fumbled to untangle his headphones. 

 

“Will this help?”

 

Experimentally, he plugged his right ear up and closed his eyes, the tears stopped, but in the wake was tracks down his face. He nodded slowly. Lafayette had put on some kind of synth-pop, titled, “ _ shelter _ ”. He felt Lafayette reach to get the other earbud and put it in his ear too.

 

Alex sighed, using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the sticky tear stains off his face. He stayed in that position for the rest of the song, focusing on a different element of the music every twenty seconds or so. Once the song ended he opened his eyes and saw everyone staring at him. 

 

“What?” He asked, voice small.

 

“How do you feel?” Aaron questioned back, worry colored all over him.

 

“Tired, sad, frustrated.” He answered, looking over to John, who had a Mcdonald’s bag in his lap and a McFlurry in his hand, extended toward Alex.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” Prompted Thomas.

 

He didn’t, really. Alex was, in every single aspect, tired. He was tired of being asked if he was ok. He was tired of being asked if he took his medicine. He was tired of thinking about her. He was tired of taking care of himself. He was tired of working. He was tired of going to doctors every single week saying “ _ I’m still sad _ ”. And lastly, he was tired of being tired.

 

And that’s why he figured he  _ should  _ talk about it. “I miss her. I miss her so much.” As far as everyone in the car knew, Eliza had broken up with Alex just before he attempted suicide, over half a year ago. That the end of their four year relationship is what finally broke him. “I told her I wanted to kill myself.”

 

Everyone sat still while he recapitulated his story. Alex took his time, pausing to dip a fry into the McFlurry. “So, I had been depressed. I’ve always been depressed though, I just assumed that it was just something everyone dealt with, especially as a kid.”

 

Alex’s childhood was never something he wanted to delve into, seeing his father was emotionally neglectful and always working, and his mother died when he was born. It sounded like some stupid narrative from a movie. Kid has abusive father, mother dies, kid is removed and placed into a loving household where they all lived happily ever after.

 

It wasn’t like that.

 

“And I would say, around eighteen I noticed everything was getting worse,” he took a spoonful of ice cream and swallowed. “I started actually working, I mean, it was a shit job. It was a shitty job that didn’t pay enough, and it wasn’t what I wanted to do. George pushed me to stay, because he thought I’d end up getting a promotion, I guess.”

 

Alex’s first  _ real _ job was an internship with some online news source. He remembered staying late at the office, organizing papers and fixing the system, which was usually down. He remembered barely seeing Eliza, and his friends. He barely had time to talk to John, approximately eight-hundred-ninety-four miles away, down the coast. He hated it. It was lonely.

 

“That’s when Eliza said she saw a change in me.” Tears threatened to spill, but he persisted. “I did quit after about five months, but I felt hopeless. I felt like even if I found another job doing exactly what I wanted, I wouldn’t get it, I wouldn’t deserve it. Next thing you know I started wishing I had died as a kid.”

 

John put his hand on his knee sympathetically, and smiled weakly when Alex met his gaze. “Nobody wants that, Alex.”

 

“I do.” He sighed. “So, I didn’t tell anyone how bad I felt, until one day I called Eliza in tears and I told her everything. I told her I wanted to kill myself, I told her I felt like a useless boyfriend, I told her I loved her and I’m sorry and she told me she couldn’t deal with all my problems if all I do is keep them from her. She said she couldn’t fix me. She said she loved me too, hung up and called an ambulance.”

 

“And you were in the hospital for a month.” Thomas realized exactly what happened, recalling events from the first week Alex was in the hospital.

 

“And she was gone,” he cried, setting the ice cream in the cup holder. “I’m sorry I never talk about my feelings, the last thing I want is your pity.”

 

John opened his arms to hold Alex, and he accepted it. “Nobody pities you, Alex. We worry, worry that you won’t be here tomorrow, or the day after.” He started stroking his hair gently. “We love you, you’re my best friend.”

 

“You guys are my best friends,” With John’s hand tangled in his hair, he reached out to grab the headphones from Lafayette. “Can I use those again?”

 

Lafayette handed the headphones over, and Alex plugged it into his phone. He searched on spotify for something similar to what he listened to earlier. He found a playlist tilted “ _ melodic dubstep _ ” and plugged his ears up and closed his eyes.

 

Thomas waited until Alex was asleep until he attempted to drive again, by the time they wrapped that up and got back on the road, it was almost eight o’clock. Thomas patted the wheel and said, “Boy, I feel like a jackass.”

 

“Yeah,” Aaron said softly, “I always thought that all this was because of Eliza. I just thought he couldn't get over her.”

 

Thomas frowned. “When I last saw her, she said she was getting the rest of her things out of Alex’s house, I told her Alex was in the hospital and she - her lips tightened and she said ‘ _ I know _ ’. I didn’t know what to make of it, I didn’t want to pry, I assumed Alex attempted suicide because of her.”

 

John continued to play with Alex’s hair. His head was resting on John’s lap, and his legs were curled up against Lafayette. Neither of them minded. The music was loud enough for all of them to hear the muffled beat through the headphones. 

 

“I’ll call George when we get to the hotel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, I'm sorry


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is hopeless, Alex is clueless and drugged.

They were about two hours away from Cleveland, and everyone in the car was wordless. Lafayette cleared his throat. “Do you want to play did you hear that?”

 

The two upfront agreed, and Lafayette and John listened to the two of them go back and forth, until Thomas looked through the rearview at Lafayette. “You do one, your idea.”  


He froze in the spotlight, and shifted. “Uh, did you hear that John is in love with Alex?”

 

John’s eyes widened, and immediately Thomas and Aaron both said, “Tell me more.”

 

“That didn’t happen,” John said as quietly as possible. “It didn’t happen.”  


“John moved down here because he’s in love with Alex, and he still is.”

 

“You’re mean,” he whispered, shrinking back.

 

“No, I just think we should talk about it, this seemed like a good way to broach the subject.”

 

“So that did happen?” Aaron turned to look at the two.

 

John swallowed. “Yeah, it happened. It’s still happening.”

 

“Then do something.” Thomas said.  
  
“It’s not that simple.” John twisted a piece of auburn hair around his index finger and frowned. “Part of him is still hoping Eliza changes her mind. He still loves her. He can’t love me.”

 

John was what Alex once referred to as a “ _good kid_ ”, which felt more like “ _get fucked_ ” than a term of endearment. When he heard Eliza and Alex broke up, he felt a plethora of emotions, excitement and guilt being the strongest.

 

When he heard Alex was in the hospital, he felt his heart drop into his stomach, his world break into a million pieces. When he saw Alex was alive, and ok, he felt an urge to protect, to proclaim his love and walk him through every step of the way of recovery. It didn’t work like that.

 

John looked down at Alex and a million thoughts raced through this mind. One, what if it was that simple? Is the happy ever after they’re both chasing within arms reach? Two, why is he still falling apart at the thought of her, and, three, how can he make it better?

 

Maybe he was making it too complicated.

 

The air was wordless, but not smokeless - John had his mod in his hand again. “Nice coping skills, John.”

 

“Fuck off,” he exhaled.

 

They drove the rest of the way to Cleveland without another word, and John’s hand was still combing through his hair fondly. Aaron went with Alex’s idea to stay at The Westin, directions guiding them the rest of the way.

 

And when the time came for them to unload for the night, John asked, “How are we supposed to get him out of the car?”

 

“I’ll carry him if we can’t wake him up.” Thomas answered, turning off the engine and pushing open the car door with his foot. He pulled open the door and saw John’s face, a dopey smile staring down at Alex. And Alex, mouth open, arm hanging off the seat. He shook his head. “Oi, sleeping beauty!” he called, nudging Alex.

 

He wasn’t completely out, because he responded to Thomas, “you’re the worst.”

 

“Get up,” He looked toward the entrance of the hotel, eyes half lidded. “We’re here.”

 

Alex shot back a muffled groan into John’s leg. John rubbed his back gently. “Come on, once we get to a room you can get some sleep ok?”

 

He nodded and sat up slowly. He squinted at the city lights and stood up. “How long did I sleep?”

 

“Two hours.” Lafayette said, grabbing Alex’s bag for him along with his own.

 

Alex looked lost, he stood against the car and shook his head. John tapped the palm of his hand and Alex instinctively locked hands with him. He closed his eyes as he walked, “You’re my eyes,” he whispered.

 

John smiled as he guided him toward the entrance. He noticed how playing with his hair for the past two hours had gotten out some of the tangles. But Alex was, again, some kind of cryptid, and, soon enough, as he looked back, his hair was just as much of a mess as it was before. Did he do that on purpose?

 

The lobby was stunning, Alex would have enjoyed the aesthetic of the atmosphere if he wasn’t doped up on a tranquilizer. His eyes were open just enough that he could see a little beyond his feet. John took him over to the couch and peered over at the other three, talking with a staff member.

 

Thomas glanced over at John and turned back to the receptionist, saying something along the lines of: “Two rooms sounds better, honestly.”

 

John watched, nearing the same degree of exhaustion as Alex. His attention shot back to his friend, who was… horizontal. Asleep on the couch. “Alex.” He shook his shoulders lightly, and Alex growled.

 

“I’m just resting,” he said.

 

John started walking away. “You can rest in your bed, up, up, up.”

 

“Fuck you, die,” he mumbled jokingly.

 

Thomas stood by the desk and waited for Alex to stir; his hair seemed to get more knotted as time went on. His face softened and he turned over the key card to John as he passed by. “Room 706,” He winked, “good luck.”

 

John stiffened and looked as though Thomas had handed him a detailed _how-to_ guide on getting into your best friend’s pants. Thomas grinned as John processed the words and slowly turned beet red.

 

He steadied himself and surveyed Alex, who was walking like he’d had one too many cocktails the night before. John held his hand out to him. “I’m your eyes,” he reminded, hoping Alex didn’t notice how clammy his hands were, or how rigidly he was moving down the halls.

 

Alex took his hand gratefully and shuffled down the hall at a snail’s pace. John started getting a tad distracted looking over the art lining the halls. Hastily, he held his arm out to stop Alex, “Stop,”

 

Alex bumped into his extended arm and let out a frustrated grunt, and rubbed his eyes drowsily, “What?”

 

“Elevator.” John gestured, and Alex turned to see the rest of the group. Thomas, looking tired and angry, a signature look. Aaron, looking as aloof and haughty as ever. And Lafayette, looking thoroughly kempt, as usual. Not even an eight hour car ride with the most exhausting people on the planet could wear him out. Alex huffed.

 

The elevator ride was still for a moment, Thomas gave everyone a sleepy smile. “Thanks, guys. For coming with me, I mean.”

 

“You blackmailed us into coming.” Aaron said, inflamed.

 

“Shut up, Jesus, can you ever be sincere?” He yelled out into the elevator. “Nice, maybe?”

 

John grimaced and exhaled through clenched teeth. “We’re all right here, hush.”

 

When the door opened, they headed into separate directions. Lafayette passed Alex his duffel bag without a word, and Alex nodded at him as thanks before trudging back down the hallway.

 

He stopped at the door while John fumbled with the key card, swiping it was harder than it should be. He was too tired and too nervous for this, he decided as he pushed open the door. Alex trailed in behind, and tossed his bag on the floor.   
  
“Night,” he whispered, pulling his shoes off and immediately began stripping.

 

John blushed, dropped his bag and ducked into the bathroom before Alex could catch a glimpse at his face. John stood there and stared at himself in the mirror until the red color drained from his face, at least a little.

 

His heart rate hadn’t steadied, but it had dropped some. He looked around the bathroom, at the pristine, spotless granite countertops, noticed the shell-shaped soap dish. Trailing over to the shower, he pulled the curtain open and inspected the shining blue tiles. He delighted at the discovery of travel-sized shampoo, conditioner, body-wash, and a small bath poof, lined prestigiously against the wall, the bath poof hanging from a hook underneath the shelf.

 

John stood still at the door to listen for Alex, and sighed in relief when he heard nothing. Gently, carefully, he eased the door open and studied the room before deciding if he was going to commit or not. John was a grown man, he liked to tell himself that a lot. And, as only physically meeting Alex as a grown man, he’d never shared a bed with him, or had anything _close_ to a sleepover, if drunkenly passing out on his father’s couch counted as a sleepover.

 

Who wants to share a bed with someone they love and _not_ jump bones with them?

 

Whatever the case was, Alex was already out cold in the bed, tucked into those blankets like a small child after their parents read a bedtime story.

 

He contemplated sleeping on the couch, or going in to sleep with Lafayette. But, the latter was ruled out the minute the thought crossed his mind, he would be angry at him for “ _wasting an opportunity_ ”.

 

John was the opposite of Alex, in this kind of way. John was, well… kind of clueless, dense, maybe. He knew what he wanted, but had no idea how to get it. He could sit alone with his thoughts and feelings and just _think_ about them until the sun rose and set for days on end, concluding absolutely nothing, besides the feeling that he “ _understood_ ” himself a little better (hint: he never did)

 

He stood in the entrance to their suite, lights off. Alex had turned the television to HGTV, which made John chuckle softly. He remembered a time Alex called and asked him to come over. He heard the hurt in Alex’s voice, followed by a sniffle.

 

John was on his doorstep in minutes, George opened the door and pointed him toward a heartbroken Alex on the couch, tear stains streaking his face. “ _Stay and watch Fixer Upper with me?_ ” He asked, grabbing John’s wrist. “ _This is really calming_.”

 

The only light in the room was the bluish glow of the TV, and if you listened quietly, hidden by the sound of the show, was Alex’s breathing. Whatever anxiety had filled John vanished. Well, not really, but he felt more at peace seeing Alex finally resting, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

 

Taking a leap, John decided to just go to sleep.

 

But he didn’t really sleep. He attentively clambered into the bed and stared at Alex, he felt as though time had stood still. But, he didn’t want to be the guy who watched people sleep, it made him feel… wrong.

 

The clock on his phone read 11:53 PM. He was exhausted and didn’t plan to be awake as long as he was. His eyes closed, but his mind raced and didn’t stop until he felt a pair of arms clenched tightly around him. He stifled a yelp, and almost instinctively pushed him away. John held his breath, and eventually relaxed. Alex sunk deeper into the bed, and John went with him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John couldn't help but wonder, was it all this simple?

Neither of the two had ever slept as soundly as they did that night, but for different reasons.

 

Around 10 AM John was awoken by Alex’s shift in position. The smaller of the two didn’t move once during the night, but it didn’t keep John from a full night’s sleep. What woke him up was instead was the fact that Alex threw a leg over John’s waist.

 

Alex hummed softly, and John couldn’t help but feel like Alex was a cat, and he had been chosen. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. There was no way out of said position, not without waking him. He opted to stay still, eyes drifting shut again as the sun broke through the blinds looking out to the city.

 

Touching Alex would usually result in John’s heart pounding out of his chest, and you’d think that spending a night attached at the hip would make every nerve in his body stand on end, but it didn’t. He felt more at peace than ever, and the sad part was that soon, he’d have to get up.

 

Alex had always been a sound sleeper, and John was sure if he decided to get up, he could without any repercussions. But the moment was something he wanted to savor.

 

The two laid silently, one out like a light, the other teasing sleep, for next to another thirty minutes. That was, until the obnoxious pounding on the door started.

 

John did jump this time, only slightly. He snaked out of the bed and made his way to the door, greeted by Thomas and Lafayette, eyes wide. “So?”

 

He shook his head in confusion. “What?”

 

“Did anything happen last night?” Thomas egged on, “You two spent the night together in the same bed and you didn’t hook up?”

 

John’s eyes were squinted as he came out of the room, door cracking behind him. “He’s on a - we didn’t - no!”

 

The two sighed, disappointed. “Whatever,” Lafayette waved his hand dismissively. “Wake him up, we’re gonna leave in about an hour or two.”

 

“Where’s Aaron?” John scrubbed his eyes and yawned.

 

“Shower,” he replied, turning to head down the hall. “You should too.”

 

He opened the door, Alex still sprawled out on the bed. He was motionless, and John felt guilty for having to wake him up. He stood over him and laid his hands on his shoulder. “Alex,”

 

It took a few tries to get him to moan into the pillow and look up, “Time.” It wasn’t a question.

 

“10:33, we need to shower.”

 

“You first,” he said, turning his back to John.

 

John didn’t want to burn daylight, so he didn’t. He probably spent less than ten minutes in the shower, but even so, steam circulated around the room and fogged the mirror.

 

His hair was always ultra-fluffy after a shower, Alex once said, followed by the question: “ _do people with curly hair brush their hair when it’s wet?_ ”

 

The answer, “ _nobody should brush wet hair, I comb it._ ”

 

That was only part of the reason Alex’s hair was so messy.

 

When John had the towel wrapped tightly around his waist and his clothes in his arms, he opened the door to see Alex leaning against the wall in the hallway, dressed in nothing but a tank top and his boxers.

 

In turn, Alex was also vaguely dense. John’s face lit up, and he looked at the floor as he darted by. Alex, unfazed, walked into the bathroom.

 

There was nothing to pack, because the two had both crawled into bed after arrival. John just switched out clothes, and folded the others before placing them neatly in the bag.

 

Alex took a little longer, mostly because fifty percent of the time he spent in the shower was him standing under the running water in attempt to wake up.

 

Alex walked out, wrapped neatly in a towel, long copper hair brushed back on his head. John, in the midst of combing the tangles out of his hair, gravely kept his focus transfixed on anything but Alex’s reflection in the mirror as he dressed.


	7. Chapter 7

Thomas kept to his word, and his schedule. They were back on the road before noon, course set to Chicago, Illinois. The car ride shifted between mundane and exciting, Thomas’ playlist was filled with more well-known music, more up to date. It was something everyone could sing along to, some of them Alex knew well enough to join in.

 

There were some songs he knew  _ all  _ the words to, like: 

 

  1. Havana by Camila Cabello
  2. Despacito by Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee (which John and Alex sang flawlessly)
  3. Wilson by Fall Out Boy 



 

It wasn’t like Alex ever claimed to be a good singer, but he got a little carried away in his vocals, nonetheless.

 

When they all piled into the car, they were silent, everyone but Thomas, who  _ insisted  _ he continued driving. It wasn’t until Alex - quickly back to his usual self from the night before - started screeching, demanding Thomas play his music, did they all start their revel.

 

Thomas swatted Alex’s hand away as he reached through the middle of the front seats for his aux cord and Alex hissed, “ _ Christ, Jefferson! _ ”

 

With Thomas’ music, Alex didn’t usually listen to anything that made its way to Z100, so most of it was unknown to him. But some of the songs had lyrics he decided he liked. 

 

The ride to Chicago wasn’t as bad as the ride from Albany to Cleveland, and they were all sure the worst was ahead of them, so they didn’t complain.

 

The nice thing about Thomas’ music was that Lafayette listened to most of it, and  _ goddamn _ , that boy had a set of pipes. Alex almost didn’t want to sing along to what he knew because of his ability. 

 

The next song started, and Alex is sure he’d heard it before, but before he can confirm or deny anything Lafayette paused the music and said, “Thomas, you’re the first, then me, then Aaron and John, together. And Alex, I need you to clear your throat like this.” He demonstrated, and Alex nodded.

 

The song started again, and they began singing. It was more like a theatrical performance than a group of five college kids. 

 

“ _ Hey baby, won't you look my way? I can be your new addiction. Hey baby, what you gotta say? _ ”

 

Alex realized he wasn’t the one getting carried away in his vocals, but again, Lafayette was  _ good _ , so they enjoyed the show, harmonizing when he gave the cue.

 

By the time Thomas cycled through his playlist, they had crossed into Illinois, and the atmosphere was the exact same, except it was Lafayette’s turn. He listened to a lot of EDM, with some gems sprinkled in, like Party in the USA, which, undoubtedly, Alex knew by heart.

 

Nobody in the car even attempted to sing it. With their windows down and the volume up, they  _ screamed it _ .

  
Alex laid his arm out the window and looked to John, their “singing” didn’t stop. When their eyes met they both grinned. He hadn’t felt this happy in a  _ long _ time. The scent of mixing e-liquid filled the air and it smelled heavenly. The nicotine high took over, and he felt fuzzy, a good kind of fuzzy. Warm, and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a filler chapter, sorry about that! I promise it's gonna pick up the slack soon.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time they reached Chicago, it was six o’clock, and Thomas looked around in defeat. He quietly said, “We haven’t picked a hotel yet.”

 

Alex took his phone into his hands and plugged in directions to the highest rated hotel in the city without a word. Capricorn. 

 

Aaron, who actually managed to go almost six hours without complaining about  _ something _ , finally broke his silence. “Why are we in Chicago?”

 

“I forgot to tell you?” Thomas asked. 

 

“Yes,” he said.

 

“You’ll see.” Thomas winked.

 

“ _ In three-hundred feet, turn left on North Michigan Avenue. _ ”

 

Thomas strained his neck and yelled, once again, being the epitome of road rage, “Where the  _ fuck _ is that?”

 

“ _ Turn left on North Michigan Avenue. _ ”

 

“Shit!” He jerked the wheel, the tires screeching around the corner.

 

Aaron screamed, Lafayette was still as calm and composed as ever, and John laughed. Alex was still ruffled, but he took the memory of the day they’ve had and tucked it away in his mind, where no one would ever be able to find it, in his his heart of hearts.

 

Thomas shared nothing more about the week ahead, not a word about why Oregon was the final destination. But they kept driving. 

 

Until they didn’t.

 

They parked near a block away from the hotel, and unlike yesterday, after a near six hour drive, Alex felt rejuvenated. John stumbled out of the car in a huff of smoke, going on and on about how all he wanted was a _fat, greasy_ _burger_.

 

Thomas promised him his fat, greasy burger and the rest of the way to the hotel was without a hitch. Check in was speedy and as planned; Thomas dropped his bags with a clap. “Go put on some nice clothes, we’re going somewhere  _ special! _ ”

 

Aaron pushed the issue, groaning and begging to know where they were going, at which point Thomas ignored him and pulled off his hoodie. “You heard me.”

 

The rest of the group knew that getting a secret out of Thomas would be futile. Lafayette was used to it at that point, so without a word he was rummaging through his bag for a change in clothes, and John and Alex, key in hand, took off to their room. 

 

John knew exactly why the three had once again, dropped him in a room with Alex,  _ alone _ . He didn’t understand how they saw it going anywhere, given how Alex was… preoccupied. 

 

The air was heavy. 

 

By the time John was dressed, lathered in his favorite cologne, and had his long curls pulled back in a ponytail, Alex was still foraging through his suitcase. A pile of clothing had unfurled on their shared bed.

 

“Jackass didn’t tell me there was a dress-code,” he mumbled to himself.

 

“He never said there was a dress-code - he said wear something nice.” John called from the bathroom.

 

“Exactly! I’m a depressed piece of shit,” Alex threw his arms in the air and experimentally held a v-neck up to himself. “I didn’t think I’d need a button up and a blazer for my high school friend’s last minute road trip.”

 

John wasn’t exactly dressed to the nines, but he looked presentable. Alex, for some reason, didn’t bring anything other than worn in hoodies and bland t-shirts.

 

When John walked out of the bathroom, Alex groaned, “Oh fuck you, Jack.”

 

John felt pity, and got Alex dressed in something that wasn’t necessarily what you’d expect for a night on the town, but it more or less screamed “ _ I’m a douchebag _ ”. Alex liked it, and it was appropriate for a college aged kid in a city like Chicago. Dark blue t-shirt, black hoodie tied effortlessly around his waist, and a pair of  _ skin tight _ ripped jeans. Alex had no other sense of style, and John could live with that.

 

If Alex could decide such a thing for himself, his hair would have remained down. Auburn locks tousled carelessly around his shoulders and in tangles. John made him wet his hair in the bathroom sink and got to work.

 

It wasn’t that much of a fight, because Alex had straight, baby-fine hair. He didn’t need much mousse at all, and it dried quickly. John was envious that his hair wasn’t as cooperative, but that thought went on the back burner. He was just too proud of how nice Alex looked; he did that. 

 

“Got any cologne?” He asked.

 

Alex shook his head no as John brushed his hair back into a messy bun. He liked the careless look, it was easy enough. John said he should dress like that more often instead of walking around like a drowned sewer rat. John just sighed and doused him in whatever kind of cologne he brought. Alex decided he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter y'all...... hoo boy


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is nsfw?? but not too graphic I don't think

Thomas was a man of his word. He took them to Red Robin a couple blocks down the road.

 

And he took them to a nightclub.

 

And he got them drunk.

 

John couldn’t help feel as though he planned all of it when he woke up in bed, completely naked and Alex tucked neatly in his arms.

 

Alex and John were social drinkers, for the most part. Alex was a slightly different story.

 

Alex had turned to drinking in the early days of his breakup with Eliza. He would go by himself to bars and get so trashed he forgot who he was, and every time, without fail, he’d end up in a stranger's bed.

 

Hangovers were no longer a concern, the sweet drinks he could down one after another without a burning sensation in his throat. If he drank fast enough, there wasn’t much of a transition between warm and tipsy, and blackout drunk.

 

The one thing he liked about going to clubs was the fact that words weren’t needed. His body could tell everything a person could wish to know. He’d readily admit to his friends that the sexual attention was distracting, to say the least. He might have gotten addicted to it.

 

John stuck to liquor, and he loved taking shots. He wanted something that would sucker punch him in the gut, and the taste of tequila in his mouth and the throbbing in his head said that was exactly what he got.

 

All at once John realized his whereabouts. Alex was in his arms, undressed save a tank top. Panic gravitated through every burning nerve in his body.

 

The night before was a blur, the only memories he carried being the mere feeling of Alex. The mere feeling mostly being the talent carried behind his actions. He was _magnificent_ with his mouth, he grinded his hips against John with slow, deliberate movements, and his hands fit against him in all the right ways. Those were the things he remembered above all else.

 

It was as easy as a few too many shots of tequila.

 

Alex turned to face John and he stiffened. Normally, John would look away, or he would at least close his eyes, but the sight was _incredible_. Alex’s peaceful, sated look soothed his aching head.

 

They remained in their position, much like the morning before. The difference was - for one - the lack of clothes, and John’s tight grip around Alex, fingertips trailing gingerly up and down his back. He stared intently, fixated on every close-up detail of his face while he took note of the exact way his body fit against him.

 

Alex’s eyes slowly fluttered open. “ _Jack_ ,”

 

He swallowed, a small smile emerging. “Alex,”

 

Alex smiled back, albeit there was a hint of sorrow behind it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

 

“For?”

 

“We were pretty drunk last night,” he said.

 

Alex remembered the night clearly, even if he wasn’t in his right mind. A few glasses of pink moscato and a daiquiri wasn’t enough to cause a blackout. He drank to numb himself to his already exposed and raw emotional nerves, and when he hit a certain number of drinks, his mourning for a lost love quickly turned to anger, bitterness, even.

 

It started off just by himself, hips swaying with every thrum of his heart just in time to the beat of the song blaring throughout the club. He reveled at how men and women alike flocked to him like moths to a flame when he danced. Alex spent the next fifteen minutes bouncing off strangers, one after another.

 

The music carried him, and even with his eyes closed, he felt eyes on him. Eliza once told him that when he danced it was almost as if he were the center of the universe, based on the crowd he drew and the hungry look in their eyes.

 

Alex said back: “ _I’m a cute short twink, what else could they want_?”

 

The next body pulled him against them, caught hold of his hips and held on for dear life. Muscular hands, tall, and smelled all too familiar. A man. _Thank god_ , he thought. Every girl he hooked up with in his drunken stupors expected him to top. Anyone who looked at this tiny framed man who stood plainly at 5’4 and saw anything dominate in his eyes was someone he laughed in the face of.

 

He tentatively twisted his hands to paw at his neck, as to pull him down, and his dance partner responded by stooping down and sucking softly on his neck. And Alex was a chump when it came to neck kisses. He melted into his touch and his movements faltered. They more rocked side to side with the beat instead of danced at that point. Alex chose who we would go home with, or at least screw in the bathroom.

 

For the next five minutes, Alex thought it was enough.

 

And it was enough until it wasn’t.

 

He turned around and an equally, if not more drunk, hazy-eyed John met his gaze.

 

Alex was okay with that. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that he could manage thinking about someone else, but he could _swear_ he felt the chemistry.

 

Maybe it would amount to something. Something substantial, something he could conceptualize. With John’s hands still gripping him fervently, he felt as though her leaving would be okay, and he knew in a few hours he’d be feeling differently. Such a thought filled him with guilt.

 

“ _Jack,_ ” he whispered, his friend’s mouth so close to his own. He wanted to close the gap between them, so he did.

 

He could taste the alcohol in his mouth, and it was more intoxicating than any drink he could order, he decided.

 

He dragged John over to the others, packed into a booth, wine glasses and beer bottles decorating the table. He slurred out: “ _We’re going - going back to the hotel_.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is short and nasty and absolutely nsfw

The two stayed in their position for a substantial amount of time, neither cared to check the time, only dreaded the moment when someone would come knocking on their door.

 

They kissed again. The first kiss with Alex John had a memory of was exactly how he imagined it in his head. It was soft, chaste, and languid. When John pulled away, Alex looked up at him innocently. The look in John’s eyes were begging, as if saying: “ _ tell me what you need me to be, what you need me to do _ ”, and such a look was troublesome for Alex. Gently, he cupped his jaw. Alex leaned into it and let his eyes drift shut.

 

John went back to kissing his lips, only slightly more heated. Alex shied away from John’s sweet and nurturing grasp on the back of his neck. He wanted to return to their activity being purely physical, and in a desperate attempt of evasion, he parted his lips and let John push his tongue into his mouth.

 

Alex delighted at how quickly it escalated from there, his partner hard and writhing against him in minutes. John’s gentle carrasses turned to animalistic groping, and when he pulled Alex against him, he made the most obscene of noises. John responded with a grunt of approval and tangled his fist in his hair. He didn’t pull, not immediately, and Alex was  _ not  _ one for denial. His eyes half-lidded and ears ringing, he mouthed out:

 

“ _ Please _ ,”

 

That earned him exactly what he asked for, head snapping back with John’s swift movements. All he could do was moan his name, followed by a punctuated grind of his hips.

 

“ _ Jack, _ ” 

 

John keened at Alex’s noises, and his free hand trailed down to wrap around his dick. “This what you want?”

 

“Yes!” Alex thrusted weakly. “Move your hand!”

 

“It’s not very polite to be so demanding of me, I’m being so nice to you, aren’t I?”

 

Alex loved a fight, even if it was near unbearable on his end. “Fuck, Jack! Just  _ fuck me, _ " he begged.

 

John kept up a sweet, teasing facade. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that,” he said, pumping once, slowly.

 

Alex swallowed, gasped. “Jack, please fuck me, I want you to touch me, make me come. Please, please.” John’s unimpressed eyes met Alex’s desperate. “I’ll do anything,”

 

John raised an eyebrow. “You said  _ anything _ ?”

 

He all but wailed, thrusting into his tightening fist. “Anything, anything.”

 

John smiled and pressed his lips to Alex’s, hand stroking lovingly.  He was good with his hands, and he was exceptional with his mouth. He stroked him to completion, which didn’t take long at all, as his mouth trailed all over his jaw and neck. 

 

John marveled at the marks he left on Alex’s neck, and stroked his thumb over them with a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Better?”

 

Alex nodded and leaned in for another kiss. 

 

He wanted to reciprocate, he wanted John to hurt him again, but once he cleaned up he pulled Alex into another hug. He shifted in his arms as John stroked his hair softly, 

 

They returned to their initial position, wrapped tightly around each other. John eventually kissed his head and asked with clear struggle in his voice, “What was that?”

 

Alex didn’t answer, didn’t move, and John didn’t press any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	11. Chapter 11

In the dead of June, Illinois was hot, humid and miserable. The mornings weren’t much different, but the cooler air was refreshing coming through the window. They knew that as soon as the sun was higher in the sky, they would run out of luck, and they’d be trapped in their own special little hell that was Chicago, Illinois. 

 

By the time John was comfortable and near dozing off again, Alex tore himself from his grasp and started getting dressed. His hair wasn’t the most tangled he’d ever seen, considering he’d seen Alex at his worst, but that morning wasn’t much better. Alex pulled it back into a tight and messy bun. The kind of messy bun that wasn’t aesthetically pleasing to the eye like from the night before, but it was acceptable.

 

“Do you want to get some breakfast?” Alex asked.

 

John propped himself up on his elbows, a sight for sore eyes. “If we can get Starbucks,” he said.

 

It was Alex’s turn to watch John get dressed, brush out his hair and look like anything but someone who just gave a handjob and spent the past several hours kissing his hotel roommate. 

 

Alex was impatient. “Today, Jack,” he said after a few moments of John examining himself in the mirror. 

 

He decided to ignore that. “What time is it?”

 

“Ten fifty-three,”

 

Alex looked aloof. Flustered, too. The look he carried made John feel as though he ruined something. “Are you okay?”

 

He didn’t jump, didn’t turn away, instead he shook his head at John’s call. “Yeah, no, I’m fine.” Instead he looked toward the door. “We can get Starbucks,” he said, sniffing at the residual cologne in the air mixing impeccably with the crisp cleanliness of the hotel room.

 

John took Alex’s hand and instantly John was teleported back to moving day. Alex ran his thumb over his knuckles the exact same way he did with Eliza, and his heart skipped in his chest, his breath caught in his throat.

 

And they made their way to the coffee shop, hand in hand.

 

Except it seemed as though something was… off.

 

Alex ordered however many espresso shots they could fit into a tall cup, to which the barista warned he could have heart palpitations, anxiety, and insomnia. He responded, “I have all of those things already so just fuck me up.”

 

John ordered a cappuccino and blueberry oatmeal. He tried convincing Alex to get something to eat, but he wouldn’t have it. “I’m not eating after I just woke up,” he said.

 

John opened his mouth to argue, to say they had been laying in bed for the past three hours, awake, but with Alex it was impossible. He paid for his drink and his own meal (and god, were espresso shots expensive) before showing him to a seat booth near the window.

 

Starbucks had a refreshing atmosphere that woke John up on its own. The scent of coffee grounds and the whirring of a blender reminded him of rainy monday mornings, sitting at the Starbucks in Albany. Lafayette, Alex, and John packed into a booth with their homework spread out over the table. Alex’s eyes glued to a computer screen as he typed out his latest essay, John sketching out a storyboard, and Lafayette taking the most beautiful and intricate notes of lymphatic system structures. 

 

The moment he was in felt like that, except the air was stiff between the two, Lafayette nowhere to be found. He was probably tucked into his own bed, just waking up and scrolling through his phone.

 

And there he was, sitting across from his best friend and one night stand, playing footsie and racking his brain on how to ask the question: “what are we?”

 

He sat and watched Alex intently, his eyes focused on him and only him. It was as if nothing else existed in that moment, and Alex was the center of the universe. 

 

And in his eyes, he was.

 

It wasn’t until over the counter someone called out: “John?” and he was pulled from his reverie. He snapped back into reality almost painfully, as he stood stiffly from the chair and retrieved their breakfast. John’s breakfast, that is, and Alex’s heart attack in a cup.

 

He set the drink in front of Alex and he smiled in appreciation, but didn’t draw his attention from his phone.

 

“What’re you doing?” John asked, stirring up his oatmeal for good measure.

 

Alex said nothing for a moment, but eventually glanced to meet his eyes before gluing them back on the screen. “Texting my dad.”

 

He ate his breakfast in silence, still thinking, still planning. 

 

After ten minutes, John realized there was no way for him to start such a conversation sweetly and gently, and the best route of action was to just say it. “What the fuck happened last night?”

 

Alex looked up from his phone and set the coffee cup on the table before them. “What?”

 

“Don’t play dumb, Alex. We hooked up last night.”

 

Alex shifted in his chair, crossed one leg over the other, and slowly and surely. “We were drunk, Jack.”

 

“We weren’t drunk this morning,” John tried to meet his eyes again, but Alex wasn’t having it. “We weren’t drunk when I gave you a handjob and you were frenching me.”

 

Sometimes Alex was an idiot. The gravity of such a situation didn’t register in his mind, and he shook his head, confused. “Look, we had hooked up the night before, and this morning we were caught up in the moment.”

 

John started to sputter in disbelief, hands flying to his temples. “I’m sorry, caught up in the moment?” He looked around as if someone else understood his predicament, and waited to see if someone nodded their agreement. “We held hands all the way here, Alex!”

 

“I just thought you didn’t want to get lost. Chicago is crowded.”

 

John blinked, “There’s something here, Alex. We need to talk about this.”

 

Alex hated sincerity, and he hated the way John said his name in every sentence, the way he desperately tried to maintain eye contact. “There is nothing here, John. We had sex when we were drunk and I woke up with a boner and you jerked me off. We hooked up. That’s it.”

 

John felt a stab of pain in his chest. “That’s it.”

 

Alex drew the courage to meet his eyes, the look on John’s face was hurt, and for some reason it irritated Alex. If he could separate romance and sex, why couldn’t John? Soon enough he was tripping over himself, tongue sharp and mouth working fast to redeem himself, he spat out: “Look, John, you - you and I wouldn’t work. You’re looking for something else. I don’t want to waste your time.”

 

In an instance a wave of realization washed over John, Alex felt like relationships were pointless after Eliza called it off. His pained look turned into one of understanding pity. Such a look made Alex shake with anger, nerves thrumming along with the banging and whirring behind the counter. 

 

“I don’t want to deal with your dad,” he added.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?” John said a little too loud, it drew attention, and Alex shrunk back. 

 

“I don’t want to put you through any drama with your father, he wouldn’t approve of us. I wouldn’t fix anything in your life by dating you. Can we just drop it?”

 

Alex’s words struck deep like knives, his face twisted into a scowl and his brows drew together. He had too many things lined up in his head to say in retaliation that he couldn’t even get the words out properly. Alex listened to him stutter and hit his hands against the table in defeat to stand up. 

 

And soon enough, he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) sorry


	12. Chapter 12

“He’s so fucking scared of commitment and he had the  _ gall _ to bring my dad into it! As if he’s the only man I could get! If it’s not him I can get anyone I want!” John paced around the room, scrubbing his eyes in frustration. Lafayette tried to introject as he went on, but John more or less yelled unintelligibly, racing thoughts pouring off his tongue. 

 

He looked to Thomas, who held the bridge of his nose and drew in a deep breath. “John,” he started.

 

It didn’t stop him; he went on without as much as a breath. “He seemed pretty okay with it when he slept with me last night! When we cuddled all morning! Or what about when I jerked him off and covered him in hickies and he kept moaning my name?” John knocked a decorative piece off the dresser, rubbing his knuckles in agony. “You know, that must mean nothi-”

 

“Jack,” Lafayette grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Slow down.”

 

“Whatever, whatever!” He yelled, fists tight and knuckles white. “He’s so fucking scared of anything real that he - he can’t handle  _ anything _ !”

 

Aaron sat on the bed and met Thomas’ eyes with an equally exasperated look. John continued ranting, face blood red and only occasionally pausing for a breath before starting back up. Lafayette followed behind him as he paced around the room. 

 

Eventually he wore himself out and rested his head on the doorway, breathing heavy and blinking away tears. “How could I be so stupid?”

 

“Can you just tell us what happened?” Thomas asked, placing a dark purple pillow in his lap as a prop.

 

John nodded and started recounting his story, what he remembered of the night before, waking up together, kissing, going out for breakfast, and their fight. He still didn’t slow down, words gushing out along with sporadic tears streaking down his face. “And then I left,” he finished, gasping for air.

 

The room was silent, save Aaron’s long, drawn out sigh. “You left?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You left Alexander Hamilton, the stupidest bitch alive, who admits to being actively suicidal, alone and emotionally vulnerable,” he repeated, “You left?”

 

Those words didn’t register in his mind, as if his synapses failed him. John sat and stared as the sudden realization flooded his senses. His chest hadn’t stopped aching since he left the coffee shop and walked back to the hotel, but that made it ten times worse. John straightened his back and steadied his shoulders. “Holy shit,”

 

Thomas stood up, beginning his own rendition of panic. “I’m calling him,” he said hurriedly.

 

“He could be anywhere at this point,” John said, tears gathering in his eyes again. “I shouldn’t have left.” He kept mumbling his regrets while Aaron tried reasoning with Thomas. 

 

“He could be anywhere, we should just call George.”

 

Thomas listed reasons why he was  _ not _ going that route unless absolutely necessary, while John shook as he paced around the room, chewing his nails anxiously. Aaron continued to give worst case scenarios, and Lafayette stood in the center of the room, staring blankly into space as the three around him went off on their own tangent. 

 

After the yelling continued for what seemed liked thirty minutes ended up being thirty seconds. Thomas yelled to quiet everyone and rein in their attention. “Alex!”

 

John had his hands clutched dramatically to his chest, and in a hushed voice said: “speaker!”

 

He obeyed, turning up the volume for everyone to hear. Alex’s tired voice rang throughout the room, and John sighed his relief. “ - at Starbucks. Do you guys want anything?”

 

“Uh, I think that - I think we’ll head out there to meet you. Can you stay where you are?” Thomas stumbled over himself, planning his next move.

 

“I mean, I can,” he said, hesitation in his voice. “Can you tell John I’m sorry - if he’s with you? I feel really bad for what happened.”

 

Thomas’ eyes widened and he looked to John with a promising grin. “Yeah, yeah I’ll tell him, we’ll be there in about five minutes, stay there.”

 

“Ok…” Alex hung up.

 

“See,” Lafayette smiled, “he’s ok!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short too but eye emoji we're getting into the heavy stuff now


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go, you heathens

They walked to the coffee shop briskly, in a line. Except for John, who practically ran.

 

Actually, he did run. He ran until his lungs were burning and his legs felt as though they’d give in at any second. John never considered himself to be the poster child for physical fitness, but he could run until he hit his limit, and he hit his limit after one minute of non-stop sprinting. He smiled when the coffee shop was in sight, just at the end of the block.

 

His breath caught in his chest, and no matter how hard he fought to steady himself, he couldn’t come down. John wasn’t about to waste time, and he mustered up whatever strength he had left and started back up.

 

And when he threw his weight against the door and stumbled in, all eyes were on him. Drenched in sweat, chest heaving, and lost, his eyes were on Alex, who met his gaze from the exact seat he left him in, across the room. He stood up in his seat and rushed over to John.

 

He stifled a laugh, and brushed the curls out of his face. “What did you do, run here?”

 

John nodded, pulling him into a hug. “Yeah,” he said, still struggling to breathe. “I did.”

 

“What for?”

 

John shook his head, led him outside and took his hand. “Alex, I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that,” he started.

 

Alex said nothing, still as John continued his spiel.

 

“It’s not fair to you, I know you have a lot going on and the last thing on your mind should be a relationship,” he said. Alex’s grip tightened.

 

They started walking, fishing their way through the busy street.

 

Alex hated having time to think, but the ten minutes he spent alone in a coffee shop led him to the realization that there was something between them. He thought about waking up next to John in the morning, every morning, and for some reason, that terrified him.

 

“Jack, listen.” With a strong inbreath, John knew he was done for. “I do think there’s something here, you moved here to be with me, for god’s sake, but I’m still getting over Eliza. Our breakup almost killed me.”

 

There it was.

 

But Alex never could shut his mouth. “And I know, it’s been eight months, I should just move on,”  he stopped in his tracks, and turned to face John. “but I _do_ feel something here, and the last thing I want is to hurt you. I can’t do that to you, you’re my best friend.” He smiled, and Alex smiled back, only softer. John stepped closer, and he let him.

 

John cupped his jaw. “We’ll make it work,” he said, inching closer. Close enough to feel his breath, close enough to enjoy the moment just before the kiss, the harmless part that meant nothing. The drumroll.

 

“Jack,” he whispered. Hesitant and momentarily debating pulling away, he closed the gap between them.

 

That was the part that meant something, and Alex felt guilt. Guilt for saying too much, guilt for not being able to let go, for once. He shook slightly as John’s lips started moving against his, and in the void that was his mind, questions came to the surface.

 

The first question being: what would change if they did end up in a relationship?

 

And he thought about it, he thought about it while John’s tongue grazed his lower lip. He was on autopilot at that point, and the next thing he knew John slipped his tongue into his mouth. That was something that would change.

 

Alex was stupid. He could never make up his mind, and his greatest fault was hurting his own chances when it came to any opportunity he could be faced with, but for a moment, he did let go. He let go and enjoyed such a simple moment that _should not_ have been so complicated or taken as long as it did to get where they were. It took five years, eight months after a miserable breakup, two days into a last minute road trip, and a mild hangover later for him to admit that maybe, just maybe, he could move on. Move on and have a stable relationship with someone else.

 

He tended to get lost in his emotions, the world black and white around him. That would either be a miserable mistake that led to the end of his closest friendship, or John would be the one to sweep him up and make it better. And he had the cognition available to understand it didn’t work like that. He wrestled with his thoughts as long as John’s mouth was on his, and he went on like that until the distant cheering of two familiar voices pulled him back into reality.

 

John pulled away, pressed a small chaste kiss to Alex’s lips, and turned his head to greet Lafayette and Thomas yelling incoherently to them from a distance. Aaron stalled behind, visibly unamused. He pushed his way through the two of them, red faced and fists clenched.

 

Alex and John took a step back, reminiscent of two little kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Aaron had a stern look illustrated effortlessly on his face, as if such a look ever left him. Alex smiled sheepishly in response.

 

“If you two are done with your little fuck-fest,” he said, matter-of-factly, “we have somewhere to go.”

 

Alex let out a laugh, and nodded his head in gesture to the others. “What, you didn’t want Starbucks?”


End file.
